Evolution

Dirty humanity then marched past all natural freedoms, bade a silent farewell to dignity. Inside the Collective’s razor wire and railway docks, paper apes faded away in tower blocks of taboo, privacy as sinister as roses. As a digitised generation expired in lies weaponised as a history of threaded webs embedded in newly dead social media, the slow suffocation of credit and work was tyranny grinning in a plastic suit and stone fascist corporations shed no tears as the bees disappeared. In hills and streets, revolutions whistled and guns rattled, bombs scattered shrapnel littered with money. Fingernails of chaos, cruel reflection in scarlet eyes, smeared blood and shit on a cracked mirror as Art in the alchemy of slavery. An epochal abyss, this apocalypse of history, freely waiting for millions of minds to agree.